She might now be known to Glee (Tuesdays, 8:00 ET, Fox, DISH 76) fans as Sue Sylvester’s mom (turns out she was actually born, and not, like, hatched from a pod), but Carol Burnett was a living legend long before somebody went and titled the episode of a major evening drama “Furt.”
Leaving Ohio: Via
Burnett’s turn as a senior citizen Nazi hunter was refreshing in more ways than one; she wasn’t underused, she wasn’t crammed into the storyline as a one-episode takeover. But even more importantly, HDTV’s or no, the populace was treated to the sight of something we don’t see very often in this country: That of a woman aging naturally.
Carol Burnett may have had work done along the way. I don’t know. What I do know is that she literally stood on a stage and under a spotlight in an episode of a program which is as guilty as any for its worship of youth. Her dentures filled her sagging mouth, her neck was wrinkled, and she no longer had the take-on-the-world posture of the young lady who once sang “I Made a Fool of Myself Over John Foster Dulles” on The Ed Sullivan Show. And she was beautiful.
There is such a great deal to respect about Carol Burnett beyond her talent, versatility, and longevity in the meanest business in the world. She does not force her political views– whatever they may be, and isn’t it delightful not to know–upon a public who turns to her for entertainment. You get the feeling that you could easily do lunch with this woman, one of the greatest comedic actresses America has ever produced, and at the same time, she retains a dignified aura which young (and middle-aged, and Hefner-aged) Hollywood would do well to emulate.
Burnett’s abilities radiate through an attractive but lady-next-door face. She is wondrously talented; she almost had to be eighty times more so than the next perfect face and figure down the line in order to make a career and keep it. And just when it seemed that she had done her nation and her craft a lifetime of great service, the guest shot showed that she had more to give: Her years, her very age, unvarnished.
